Back from the Fall
by AcademicTree
Summary: Post-Reichenbach. Sherlock was bored when he was 'dead', and we all know what Sherlock does when he's bored. Now John has to help him recover from his drug addiction, while struggling with his ever-changing feelings for his tall, dark, (handsome?) friend. I promise I will finish this! I'm just having writer's block at the moment, I guess!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This fanfic is set after The Reichenbach Falls and is all going to be written from John's perspective. Sorry not much happens in this chapter but I really wanted to get into John's character. I promise there will be more plot in future chapters. I hope you enjoy! :D Please review!**

**Thank you to my wonderful beta Princess FunkWalk for giving me the idea! You should all go check her out! :D**

**Cover picture is by elocinaqui on deviantart so please check her out! ^_^**

"There's something you wanted to say, and didn't say it." It wasn't a question. John couldn't work out why this statement had made him think so much – Ella had made assumptions like this before but this one was different somehow. It had been over a month and the comment was still constantly on his mind. She was almost always right, though not with the same fascinating consistency as Sherlock... John suddenly found himself missing Sherlock; the way he revelled in an almost childlike manner with interesting cases, the way he could sit in his chair opposite John's for hours, the way he sometimes looked at John...

This thought brought John back to the real world-ish. Nothing had seemed real since 'The Fall'. John had simply drifted along, declining any help offered to him, even Lestrade's offer of a place to stay. He especially declined Mycroft's invitation to meet at the Diogenes Club. Although it was probably irrational, John still partly blamed Mycroft for Sherlock's death. He refused to believe that the so-called Ice Man was so cold as to knowingly destroy his own brother's career and therefore life. This was where the problem lay, though. Although Mycroft may not have done any of this knowingly, he did massively contribute to Sherlock's death.

John did not believe for one minute that his dearest friend was a fraud, but he had somewhat resigned himself to the fact that Sherlock was never coming back. He had visited the grave a few times but it had brought back too many painful memories. Also, John often got the feeling that he was being watched when he visited, which made him feel very uncomfortable. He tended to avoid the cemetery as much as possible, as he was definitely one to trust his instincts, a quality which had come in very handy in Afghanistan all those months ago. Thinking of the war brought back the all too familiar twinge in his leg; John's limp had returned after Sherlock's death. Ella had said it was now simply an issue of mind over matter – they both knew that the limp was psychosomatic – but it wasn't as easy as that. John was a determined man, though, so he was planning on fighting the hobble every step of the way, literally! In an attempt to get on with his new life, John had thrown himself into his work. He was there all day, often spending evenings doing extra work and only leaving late at night. Eventually, it became so much that Sarah had to stop paying John overtime – the hospital couldn't afford to pay him to work from 8am until 10pm!

_Suddenly, John found himself outside St Bart's hospital, phone in hand, watching helplessly as his best friend threw himself off the towering building. He felt utterly powerless and could do nothing but stare at the plunging figure, wishing this was a dream but knowing it was all too real. Time seemed to slow down and John felt fear and terror rip through him; he knew that any second now his best friend, his only true friend, would be gone from his life. After what seemed like an eternity of dread, Sherlock hit the floor. John felt the force of the impact shudder through his own body and started running towards his dearest companion, colleague and partner. When he reached the body (after a brief encounter with a stupid man on a bike) John's heart sank. Sherlock was very much dead._

John came back to reality abruptly, feeling sick to his stomach. He forced himself to think back to that fateful day. When John had tried to find a pulse, he had thought he felt a movement in his best friend's wrist, but was pushed away before he could be sure. He had since then dismissed the faint beat as wishful thinking. He struggled to think about that awful day and there was no point in holding out false hope – Sherlock had been pronounced dead, the funeral had been held, he was never coming back. All this thinking of Sherlock also brought back memories of Mrs Hudson. John had barely spoken to her since The Incident; he couldn't bear the idea of going to the flat, and was struggling to find the motivation to meet at any nearby cafés. Ella had encouraged him to talk to Mrs Hudson about their memories of Sherlock, though. John pulled himself together, called the older woman, and got ready to catch a taxi to the agreed café.

Ten minutes later, John found himself recalling the countless times he had hailed cabs that Sherlock had taken 'to think'. The thought lingered in his mind until John could swear he could smell Sherlock's aftershave. He dismissed the idea from his mind and, still slightly reeling from his vivid flashback, paid the driver and went into the café. Greeting Mrs Hudson, John was preparing himself for the barrage of tears that he thought would be inevitable; Mrs Hudson was a strong woman, but they had hardly spoken since Sherlock's funeral. John rarely went back to 221B and, when he did, it was late at night when he knew he wouldn't have to talk to her. It wasn't that John meant to be mean, but he didn't feel that he could cope with more reminders of his most cherished friend. Expecting the worst, John sat down. "Hi, Mrs Hudson, how are you holding up?"

"I've been better, dear, but there's not much point in dwelling on the past! I ordered tea for you, I hope that's okay." She replied. John was shocked – he had expected a much more emotional response! He barely managed to nod his head, but forced himself to swallow down his surprise and was about to mumble something when Mrs Hudson moved in and spoke again, quietly. "You'll be okay, John." He was going to argue when he thought he saw a familiar looking man walk into the café. A tall, pale, familiar looking man with dark curly hair. Then the guy turned around.

It was Sherlock.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this, please review it - I love reviews! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews and follows! You're all wonderful! :) This chapter is also quite short, but I thought it ended at a good time, and who am I to argue with myself? ;D I've updated this quite quickly, but I doubt that I will be able to add more chapters so quickly in the future, it's just that I'm on a break from college at the moment, and this was a short chapter. I'll probably upload one chapter a week or something.**

**Please check out my beta, Princess FunkWalk, who is amazing and has helped me so much with this story!**

**And the cover picture is by elocinaqui on deviantart so please check her out! ^_^**

**Thank you all! Please remember to keep reviewing and stuff! It keeps me going with the story. :)**

Sherlock was back.

John's shock was quickly replaced by fury.

He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth and just felt his whole body tighten up. He couldn't work out why he felt so tense! So many questions were going around his head; why had Sherlock faked his death, how had Sherlock faked his death, why had he waited so long to come back, why had he even come back, was this really Sherlock? All of this was crowding John's brain so he couldn't form any words – his mouth was moving but nothing was coming out. Feeling sick, John closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing deeply, leaning his head back on the wall. After a while he realised that Mrs Hudson was still with him and probably had no clue what was going on. He took a few more calming breaths and opened his eyes to find a pair of eyes staring back at him. A pair of beautiful, light blue eyes. Sherlock's eyes. They looked concerned, an expression John had rarely seen reflected in the usually emotionless orbs.

"You-you're supposed to be dead!" All John could do was stammer. Sherlock just looked at him oddly.

"Use your brain, John. It is quite obvious that I am very much alive. I know that you don't have a superior mind, but this is a very simple concept to understand." Mrs Hudson shot Sherlock a look. "I can see that you may have some questions to ask me. Do you want to go home? Mrs Hudson has tidied the flat." John nodded, still slightly in shock.

They all arrived home together but Mrs Hudson tactfully slipped off into her flat, leaving John and Sherlock to 'have a nice chat'. John knew it would not be 'nice'. He wanted so many explanations from his friend, and wasn't sure that Sherlock would be willing to provide the answers. "How did you fake your death? Why did you fake your death? Why didn't you tell me? Where is Moriarty? Are you safe? Why couldn't you have just _bloody_ talked to me?!" All the questions came out in one long stream that anyone less extraordinary than Sherlock would have probably found difficult to understand. Knowing that Sherlock understood, John couldn't grasp why he was taking so long to reply. This made him even angrier! "Sherlock, are you even listening to me? I've gone for months thinking that you were dead and now I'm greeted with _silence_?!" He heard his voice catch on that last word. It was almost too much to have Sherlock back but still seeming so cold and cut off from John. This was when John properly looked at Sherlock. His features looked sunken, his eyes dulled and his skin seemed paler than usual. It suddenly hit him – Sherlock must have been bored when he was pretending to be dead, and everyone knew what Sherlock did when he was bored. "You have not-" John started to say but he felt an intense mixture of fear and anger welling up inside him which froze his words where they were in his body. The bubble of anger burst abruptly. "How COULD you?" John exploded. "You manage to cheat death -_which is something I will be asking about later_- and then you go and practically _kill yourself_ anyway! Do you NEVER think of the consequences of your actions? What about your family? Your friends? What about me, Sherlock?"

That last question came out as a whisper. John hadn't meant for it to come out at all – he was a strong army doctor, not a weak teenage girl! Suddenly, John was exhausted. Spending all his energy on missing Sherlock had left John an emotionally broken for his return. He sat down on his chair, gesturing for Sherlock to sit on the other. "Right, I need some answers, Sherlock." The taller man bowed his head and John was momentarily stunned at his gracefulness. He felt odd recognising Sherlock's elegance, so made up for it by speaking incredibly brusquely. "But we're both tired so let's go to bed for now. Tomorrow I'll take the day off work and I will expect you to tell me everything I want to know." Sherlock nodded mutely and John was, again, taken aback by how submissive he was. Something was wrong and tomorrow John would find out what. For now, though, he needed to make sure that Sherlock was safe and well. Escorting Sherlock to bed, John softly whispered "I'm glad you're back. I missed you," and John could swear he heard his dearest friend murmur something in response.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: This is a ****really**** short chapter - much shorter than before - but it is mainly a filler, as the real plot will *hopefully* kick in in chapter 4!**

**Thank you all for reading, following and reviewing this story! It really means a lot! ^_^ Again, I've updated this quite quickly but I probably won't be able to keep this up, as I will go back to college in a week. **

**Thank you to my supermegafoxyawesomehot beta Princess FunkWalk for helping me! She is wonderful and you should all go and read her stories as well!**

**Also, the cover picture is by elocinaqui on deviantart, and you should go check her out, as she is AMAZING! :D**

Waking up, John's first thought was of the difficult day ahead of him. He went downstairs to find a vulnerable looking Sherlock curled up on the couch in his pyjamas and dressing gown. He felt a stab of something in his chest, but quickly dismissed it and went to make some tea as silently as possible. He was not quiet enough, though, as Sherlock turned around and gave John a dirty look. "You could try being quiet, John. It's not incredibly difficult, you know." John chose to ignore the jibe and instead offered his friend a cup of tea, almost kidding himself into thinking Sherlock could be easily guilt-tripped. It didn't work. Sherlock took the tea without thanks and sat on the sofa sulking. He knew what was going to come next.

"You have things you want to ask me." It wasn't a question so John didn't bother answering. "I can't tell you everything you want to know."

"Well you'll have to bloody well try! First things first, why did you fake-die?" John could see the internal conflict reflected in his friend's eyes. "I will find out somehow, Sherlock. I advise that you tell me so I don't have to go to Mycroft and get second hand information."

Sherlock sighed, "Must we really start with this question? It's so boring! Why not ask me how I faked my death? It's a more interesting story, and I am as incredible as usual, I can assure you."

"Okay!" John responded, slightly surprised at the shock forming on Sherlock's face, "How did you fake your suicide? How did you-" He cut off and finished in his head: _how did you convince me that my whole world had fallen with you?_

Sherlock seemed to get over John's change of tactics fairly quickly, but still seemed slightly bewildered as he spoke. "I ... uh ... A magician never tells!" John glared at the dark-haired man until he relented. Pulling himself together, he spoke again. "You're too slow, John! I realise that your abilities are nowhere near extraordinary, but the clues were all there. Work it out yourself!"

John's jaw tightened. All of a sudden he felt completely out of control. It was like he wasn't in his body. He felt himself jump forward at his friend, grabbing his arm tightly. Then Sherlock whimpered. This was a noise he had never heard coming from this seemingly supernatural man. It shocked John to his core. Coming to his senses, John let go. He uttered a quick apology, and ran away.

"What have I done?" John thought. "My best friend comes back, obviously battling some sort of addiction, and all I can do is shout and be violent! It wasn't justified – was it? Sherlock _was _incredibly frustrating... No! Mere annoyance is never a reason for violence." As if he needed any reminding. "I was in no danger; there was no reason for the assault. Sherlock still hasn't answered any of my questions, but that's no justification for abusing him. Maddening as these drugs are, they are no reason to hurt my best friend." All at once, John felt deflated. "Sherlock is too good for me. Everyone thinks so! Just look at yourself, John. You are a poor excuse for a man." He ran his hand through his hair and made his decision. "I should be healing Sherlock, not harming him. I am a doctor after all! There is nothing to do but help him recover and only request answers when he is truly ready for it."

Feeling confident with his decision, John hailed a taxi – he had managed to get remarkably far from home! He took his seat in the cab and went to put down his cane when he realised he hadn't brought it with him. He laughed at the irony. Even in his broken state, Sherlock had managed to cure John's limp. This calmed him slightly. It was a sign that things would soon be back to normal. Chuckling slightly, John paid the driver and headed up to 221B, rehearsing the apology he wouldn't get the chance to utter. When he got upstairs Sherlock was gone.

**A/N: I hope you liked this chapter and, again, I apologise for it being so short, but it ends on a nice little cliff hanger! ;D**

**Please review and follow the story! It means so much to me. Thank you! ^_^**

**In case you haven't noticed, I haven't updated this story in _ages._ I have been so so so busy, and I don't want to have really slow updates, so I'm going to write the whole story and _then _I'll upload the chapters here. I have exams this summer, though, which I have to revise for, so I don't know when I'll be able to finish this. I hope you all don't mind! I promise I'll try to be as fast as I can! Thank you for understanding ^_^ x**


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